Running for the Unseen Goal

 A guest post by Little Brother, Blair Stringam

A long time ago (I won’t say how long) when I was in grade school, I was pretty much bored with everything school.  The only thing that I looked forward to was the spring county track meet.  I loved to run and I loved to compete in the sprints and relays.  Finally, I progressed through grade school to grade 6 and I thought that now that I was going to start junior high school the next year and would be with the older kids who were stronger and faster, that I wouldn’t be able to compete in another track meet.  It made me sad. 

As school ended and summer vacation began, I was given various tasks on the ranch and I enjoyed working outside.  However, I did get tired of baling hay.  Baling hay helped to get me to look forward to school in the fall. 

Another task that I was usually involved with was fencing.  If we weren’t baling hay, we were building fence. Or mending fence. Or checking fence.  

One day Dad took me out to the field where we were going to build a new barbwire fence.  The process involved pounding in corner posts, stringing a wire between the corner posts then using said wire as a guide to pound in all the posts between the corners.  It was very important to my Dad to make sure that the fence was straight so after the wire was strung and before the posts were pounded, we had to set one of the lengths of barbwire to be our post guide.  

With the wire stretched, my dad would stand at one of the corners and look along it to the other corner.  I had the job of running down the length of wire and moving it to one side or the other as Dad gave hand signals.  As I said earlier, I liked to run so I didn’t mind the task.

During the summer after grade 6, Dad started making me run faster.  I was surprised because in the past he had been content with just allowing me to run at my desired pace.  This summer he was making me put more effort into it.  Because I liked to run, I didn’t question what Dad was doing.  (I think that he may have been in a hurry that day.) 

It happened that that day was a good day for running and we were able to set all of the guide wires for the fence.  We finally got into the truck and headed for home.  I asked Dad, why he was making me run faster than I normally did.  He said that he wanted me to work on training for the track meet next year in the spring.  I said, “but Dad, I’m going to junior high school next year.  I’ll be with the big kids.  I don’t think I’ll get to run in a track meet again.” 

He just said that it is good to prepare. 

That little piece of advice has stuck with me for all of my life.  The funny thing is as I have tried to prepare for future challenges, the task that I was doing prepared me for opportunities that I didn’t foresee.  I am so very grateful for a father that had the foresight to encourage me to try to look at possible opportunities and prepare for them.  It has helped me in ways that I never imagined. 

And by the way, in my senior year, I was able to compete in the provincial track meet.  Thanks Dad.

Camping With Coyotes

 

Camper Extraordinaire, far right.

 When I was eleven, I was excited to become a boy scout.  My friends and I wanted to go camping and do things that scouts do.  We had already been on a short day-camping trip with our junior scout group and I loved it. 

I tried to figure out a place that my friend Gerry and I could go camping alone.  I thought about the backyard, but that wasn’t cool and we would not be able to show that we were camping outdoor geniuses.  We needed to camp in a place that was convenient for my father as he drove to and from the ranch several miles west of Milk River. 

Then I realized there were several places on the ranch itself that made ideal sites. One had a spring that bubbled up out of the ground.  Dad could take us there on one of his trips to the ranch then pick us up the following day.

It was late spring and the weather was ideal.  Gerry and I planned what we needed, packed our backpacks and loaded them into Dad’s truck.  One of the items we packed was pancake mix.  I was excited for us to cook this in the morning.  It seemed like it would be a great treat. 

We were driven to the ranch and then out to the spring.  It was an ideal day and an ideal location—about a mile away from the house and ranch buildings where my brother and his wife lived. 

As Gerry and I unpacked our gear, we realized that we didn’t have any butter or lard to lubricate the frying pan for making pancakes, so we walked the mile back to the ranch buildings to borrow some from my brother. 

Then we walked back to our camp and settled in for the night.

As it got dark Gerry and I crawled into my little pup tent and into our sleeping bags.  We were camping and ready for all that it had to offer.  We talked for a while and started to fade off to sleep. 

Then we heard something outside our tent.  Now Gerry and I must have seen the same scary movie because we were both immediately afraid of whatever it was.  I suppose that we could have looked but we didn’t dare.  Whatever was outside the tent probably had large teeth, massive claws, and it would cause great bodily harm to my friend and me.

Then coyotes started howling.  It sounded like they were right beside our tent.  Gerry and I were terrified.

Those coyotes were kind enough to serenade us all night. 

Then we could hear rustling outside our tent.  I don’t think I slept at all.  I kept thinking that if I survived, I could have pancakes in the morning with choke cherry syrup.  I prayed that morning—and pancakes—would come soon. 

After a very long night, we saw the sun rise. Somehow we had survived.  The critters that were rustling around our tent had miraculously disappeared and we ventured out to a beautiful spring morning.  The fact that we survived the night (and the menacing monster) made the day that much more beautiful.  A great day to be alive.

Gerry and I mixed up the pancake batter and we made several pancakes.  They tasted so good considering our near-death experience. 

Then we looked around our tent.  Deer tracks were everywhere but about 30 feet from our tent, we found coyote tracks. 

We probably weren’t in any danger, but when one is in the midst of a pack of howling coyotes in the middle of the night, your perspective changes.

Also when you’re in the midst of coyote tracks in the middle of the morning.

Just sayin. . .